Haven For Cockroaches
by Tax
Summary: There wasn’t any love in this moment. No sweet whispers telling me everything was going to be okay. Xigbar/Xaldin, Xigbar/Vexen/Xaldin YAOI, GRAPHIC Non-Con, Threesome, Cussing, Angst, Abuse, AU
1. Haven For Cockroaches

Warnings/Info for this chapter:

Pairing: Xigbar/Xaldin  
Warnings: Cussing, Angst, Rape, Cuttings(not intentional), Disturbing imagery (Maggots, messy ass room), OOCness and Scooby-Doo. YAOI  
Rating: NC 17  
Other: Alternate Universe

THIS STORY CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF MALE/MALE INTERCOURSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

TAX

There wasn't any love in this moment. No sweet whispers telling me everything was going to be okay. No warning before tearing me open and fucking me raw.

Beer cans and cigarette butts crushed under my stomach as he pounded me into the table. Something must have been glass as I heard a crack and something jagged sink into me. But he didn't care, he didn't mind the screams. The begging, the whimpers of pain. All he wanted was to get off and I was the nearest thing. Why didn't I learn?

I thought he'd be different. I thought I knew what I wanted. He wasn't and I didn't.

He grabbed my braids, yanking hard and pulling free a black clump much to my displeasure. His cock didn't stop ripping me apart as he told me I was nothing more than a cheap bitch. I didn't argue, it was true after all. By then I was bleeding, I could feel the cuts from the glass oozing as well as my abused ass. Blood ran down my legs, dripping off onto empty pizza boxes and Burger King wrappers.

Nothing was pleasurable for me despite what my dick may be pointing to otherwise. He kept hitting that spot in me, but there was no pure ecstasy. No seeing lights in front of my eyes, nothing that made everything all right like some cheap ass story would tell you. This was rape. I was being raped. It wasn't fun. It wasn't good. It was just happening and I was along for the ride.

At this point I was looking at anything but him, thinking of anything but the pain. My eyes settled for watching the few maggots nearby, covering the half-eaten burger someone left behind. He thrust harder, my face nearly up against the said burger. I moved as much as I could away from it, the smell of rot wasn't something I was fond of. But like I said, he didn't care. My face was soon covered in rotting bits of meat, and I gagged. Disgusting maggots were on my face, almost in my mouth but thank god I closed it before-hand. There was enough meat in me already, I didn't think I could stomach anymore.

He was done with me in a few more minutes. It didn't seem so little time had past, but the cheap ass alarm clock said otherwise. I laid there awhile, used and face still covered in the squirming bugs. What else was there to do? He mumbled something I didn't catch, I didn't really care at that point. I was there and not there. What's the point in cleaning up anyway if you're just going to get dirty again?

I heard a few clicks behind me then smelled the smoke, not bothering to turn. Bastard always smoked after sex, I learned that much since I came here. To this motel dump on this fucked up town. I don't even know why Im here anymore. I want to fucking leave. I want to turn around, take that cancer stick right out of his fucking mouth and stab his other eye with it. I'd like to see the bastard screw me over blind. But I did nothing. I slumped against the table of glass, blood and crushed beer cans.

Behind me the tv flicked on and he reclined watching some Scooby Doo reruns. Its hard to believe the guy just raped me raw a few moments ago but there you have it. Rapists love talking crime-solving dogs apparently.

"Hey bitch, wash the fuck up. I don't want fucking blood on the fucking carpet."

A little late for that. I forced myself up regardless. I wasn't in any condition to fight back anyway. While heading to the bathroom, someone pounded on the front door. Each thump was like a death sentence as I quickly shut and locked the door. Safely inside the haven for cockroaches and mildew, I heard the bastard talking with someone. Arguing more so. I drowned it out by running some water, unlike the toilet the sink still worked, and picked up the cleanest looking towel. Everything ached, but I had to clean out the cuts. And his cum. My hands shook while I did the deed, some part of me died every time I cleaned up. It was painful and humiliating. I knew cleaning up meant more later. He wasn't the type for messy seconds, even though his room was second only to a fucking trash dump.

The door opened and I sighed, having forgotten the lock was busted just like everything else. He stood in the frame, that same grin on his scarred and disfigured face as before. It never ended well.

"Its your lucking day bitch, you get another fuck buddy."

I glanced behind him at the "fuck buddy". I couldn't decide if it was a man or woman till he spoke, brushing aside his overly long straw-like hair.

"This the one you were talking about then? Looks more like an escaped gorilla than a whore." I didn't like the sneer on his face as he said that. I didn't like him at all to be honest but chances are I'd be riding his cock before the day was over.

"Xaldin, stop fucking staring and do the only thing you're fucking good for."

I hesitated. It was a mistake. My head was soon bashed up against the door, arm twisted behind me painfully. His face was right up against mine, I could still smell the cigarette on his breath that was absent from his lips.

"You fucking around with me with my friend here? Don't forget your place bitch."

His harsh words were only amplified by the cold steel I felt on my bare back. Half of me wanted him to pull the trigger, the part that grew each day. But the voice in my head, the one that still had that little bit of hope somewhere deep inside, it's the one I listened to. I went limp in his grasp.

"Good."

TAX

Yeah, pretty messed up with Xaldin. Its only going to get worse. This is my first smut fic, so feel free to toss any overripe tomatoes my way. Or give me some flames to roast my pop tarts on. Yum. Threesome and so on will be in later chapters.


	2. Things You Don't Include

Pairing: Xigbar/Vexen/Xaldin  
Warnings: Cussing, Angst, Rape, Toys, Threesome, Oral, OOCness and Wendys.  
Rating: NC 17  
Other: Alternate Universe

TAX

When you plan out your life, there's certain things you include and don't include. Usually you pan it out to having a high paying career, more women than you can shake a stick at and living a life of luxury.

One of the things you don't include is having two men you hate ramming their cocks down your throat and ass.

Guess which of the two I'm "enjoying".

Vexen grunted as he pushed my head to swallow more. I gagged around him, which only made him thrust further. I swear the fucker was trying to screw my lungs. Every thrust from the faggot pushed the bastard in my ass deeper. I cant say it was a feeling I enjoyed. Xigbar's balls kept slamming against me, making a sickening fwapping noise each time.

At the very least we were on the bed this time, though it wasn't all that different from the table. The spread was littered with empty containers and spots burned from cigarette coals. Every time one did a particularly hard thrust, accompanied with my groan of pain was the noise of another piece of trash falling on the floor. Thrust. Clank. Thrust. Plop. Thrust. It would've been more amusing if my new "fuck buddy" didn't just pull out and cum on my face. Some fucking got in my eye. I couldn't decide what stung worse, my eye or my pride. Who was I kidding? My pride left me days ago. Sometime during the hours Xigbar forced me to clean the repulsive bathroom. With my tongue.

He had that smug sneer on his face as he wiped the remains on a once clean portion of my cheek.

"My, how pretty you are with a new paint job, Gorilla."

I knew this would be a pain in the ass to get out of my braids and sideburns. Cum tended to leave sticky messes. Another life lesson learned in this hell hole. The bastard behind me grunted loudly, slapping my ass to add another portion of pain. As if the ball slapping wasn't humiliating enough.

Something I was all too familiar with filled my ass while something softening left it. Finally, I could get some rest after cleaning up.

But my faith in humanity was proven wrong once again. Something cold wrapped around my wrists and before I could fight back I was stuck firmly to the headboard. Wearily I looked at the cuffs then my captors. They were already ignoring me, rambling on about getting something to eat. I would have said something, cursed their very existence at the least but… My throat was so sore… and my eyes so heavy. I drifted into an exhausted sleep, cum-faced and filled.

Even my dreams weren't an escape from this hell. I dreamt of that rainy night. The cold droplets soaking into my flesh as someone offered me a hand. I was so grateful to have a warm bed to sleep in, a warm body to sleep next to. I was greeted by the harsh reality only after the door was shut and locked. Only after the dream ended and the real nightmare began. I could still feel that single eye's burning gaze… and something else burning.

I woke with a start, crying out in pain as my gaze settled on the source. The fuckers returned from Wendy's and Xigbar decided my inner thigh was a good place to put out his cig.

"Good morning my little beast."

He knew I hated being called a beast. When we were at the bar before coming to this shitty motel we'd entered a long discussion on how Disney cartoons are the most fucked up shit out there. When you're drunk, things sound like better topics than they are.

"Not as good as that scarred up mug of yours, beauty."

I couldn't help it and no sooner was it out did I regret even bothering to use my breath. The gun was resting on my temple and vaguely I wondered how he always got it out so fast.

"Fucking forgetting your place again?"

In the background, Vexen slurped on his frosty as I shook my head slowly. I didn't want to get on the pirate-wannabe's short fuse anymore. But my answer didn't seem to do the trick. The hand not holding the gun wrapped around my cock, tugging it painfully until it twitched to life in response. I didn't know what game he was playing, he never really bothered with my pleasure. It could only be something twisted.

He motioned the blonde asshole over, mumbled something and he reluctantly gave Xigbar the remainder of the frosty. The heat that pooled to my cock was extinguished nearly as soon as it started. Frosty remains dripped from my cock down my balls, and I could feel the shrinkage starting while I whimpered.

But punishment was never over so quickly. He lifted my legs up enough to get a view of my abused hole then rummaged through the nearby garbage. After a few moments of searching, and with some help from his fucker friend, a long black dildo was resting before my eyes. It was easily twice the size of what I was used to and I felt my legs subconsciously try to close. The bastard wouldn't have any of that, forcing them even further open as he flicked a switch on the toy. Great, a vibrating monster cock. If their was some being up there, getting his rocks off to my torment, I vowed to someday castrate them. With a butter knife.

Even with how loose my ass was getting from all the fucking, it didn't take long for the stretching to get unbearable. I swore, receiving a slap to the face for it and fell quiet except for the occasional gasp of pain. Only after I couldn't see the faux cock anymore did he stop, that same grin I grew to hate on his face as he watched me squirm. As much as I didn't want it, as much as I didn't enjoy it, my cock was hard nonetheless. For days I hadn't been able to get off. Every attempt brought another threat of blasting my brains out on the tacky wallpaper. I was hard, but I didn't want it. I never wanted this.

And it didn't matter as Vexen tossed him the keys, the old fucker's look mocking me while pirate-freak unlocked the cuffs long enough to get me off the bed. I was a sticky, sore and shaking mess on my feet again, harshly pushed towards a pile of dirty clothes.

"Dress up pretty, slut. We're going for a drive."

TAX

Why do I punish Xaldin so? I haven't a clue, seeing as I do love his character. I suppose I'll chalk it up to creative license.

Review.


	3. Less Than Manly Giggles

Pairing: Xigbar/Xaldin  
Warnings: Cussing, Angst, Drunken Sex, OOCness and Xaldin in tights.  
Rating: NC 17  
Other: Alternate Universe

TAX

A few flyers blew against his feet as he sighed. The rain hadn't let up yet and the jousting lances weren't getting any lighter. He would have set them on the ground if he wanted them to share the same fate at his boots. He grimaced, running his free hand through his soaked braids as he eyed the mud covered boots. That was going to be a bitch to get out. At least they didn't get on the costume he thought positively. The fabric took even longer to get shit off of than his boots.

It had been an hour since the faire closed. An hour since he waved goodbye to the other reenactors and thus doomed himself to standing under the tree like an idiot. Of all the days for his car to be in the shop, it had to be today.

Then again Xaldin never did have the best of luck. While the other jousters and knights had swooning women after them, his audience was limited to drunken men and cat-calling teenagers. He couldn't figure out what exactly made him seem like the gay sort of guy. And he didn't mean "happy". Maybe it was the outfit, but it was the standard workers one. Maybe the way he talked? No, he thought, Xaldin didn't talk much different from everyone else. Then it had to be his hair.

His hair. He shifted the lances on his shoulder some and pulled a braid over to inspect it. Sure, most men had shorter locks. Xaldin could almost see how he could be mistaken for a faggot, but that's just how he liked to style his hair. Was it so wrong for a man to braid his own hair?

He blinked some then face palmed. First thing in the morning he was cutting them off.

Caught up in his musings, he didn't notice the beat up 1991 Toyota Celica until he was coated with a particularly thick splash of mud.

Mother fucker.

"Yo, hey sorry man. I didn't see you there!"

Xaldin eye'd the man through the partially rolled down window. He seems to be in his later years from the hair color and was ridden with scars. He could vaguely make out his eye patch from the sheet of rain.

"Look, Im really sorry, why don't you put those in the back and hop in?"

It didn't take much prompting for him to head inside the car. A mistake as it was.

The rest of the night was spent hopping from bar to bar, saying things that shouldn't be said and getting closer to a stranger than logic dictates wise. He of course still wearing his costume, the braided fool got quite the stares. In his drunken stupor, Xaldin ignored all warning signs that Xigbar wasn't the nice guy he was trying to show himself as. But as the saying goes: "The most expensive drink you will ever taste is free alcohol."

Stumbling over the mass amount of trash and porno mags, and having a few less than manly giggles, Xaldin found himself on the bed he'd later be cuffed to. Somewhere in the back of his mind he mused over the fact he had turned into a two beer queer. But such thoughts were lost once his costume was ripped to shreds and they were joined in the most romantic way possible.

Through the ass.

Had he taken the time to use whatever portion of his brain not engulfed by drunken monkey sex, Xaldin would have left far before the upcoming morning. Before he was up shit creek without a paddle. He didn't, he was, and for the sake of continuing the story: some mistakes cost you your pride and cherry.

Mental images aside, a very shocked Xaldin found himself in an empty motel the morning after, tied and gagged to the shitty bed. No matter his muffled cries, or almost tears, Xigbar had gotten the upper hand.

The hours he was tied turned to days as his struggles became weaker and weaker. On the fifth day of no food or water, the door opened. This was the moment he was waiting for. The moment he'd kick the bastards ass. But then he saw it. The most glorious sight of the past few days.

A burger king whopper, fries and coke.

How easily the mighty fall as when Xaldin's weakened form was released, he forgot all about the much deserved ass whooping and ravenously devoured the more-grease-than-meal.

"Well then bitch, looks like you owe me one."

Over the next week Xaldin learned the meaning behind those words.

TAX

Okay, short chapter I know. Much love to "Saix", my reader monkey. I wanted to get this one out of the way and wanted to giggle over Xaldin in a medieval faire costume.

Debating on adding Luxord for the next chapter.


End file.
